


I wear your halo (around my finger)

by ura_nium



Series: and your compass be true [4]
Category: Wonder Woman (2017), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of War, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-04-19 07:35:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14232423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ura_nium/pseuds/ura_nium
Summary: Vignettes of the people finding out exactly who this Steve was, and still is, to Diana.OrThe 5 times someone noticed Diana wearing two rings, and the one time she was happy wearing just one.





	1. Queen Hippolyta

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, only the writing. 
> 
> This is most definitely, directly referencing my other fic. So do make your way over to my fic titled [The Compass](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11233578/chapters/25103718). This first chapter happens right after **Chapter 2** of that fic. 
> 
> That being said, although this fic can't really be read as a standalone, I can give a brief summary of what happens and what these rings are if you don't have time to read the other fic:
> 
> Basically, prior to this first chapter Diana is captured by Ares and made to stand trial for going against him in WWI. He curses her with a ring that allows him to track her activity and whereabouts.
> 
> However, she manages to elude his notice and returns back to Earth, only to find that a lot of time has passed and the humans are now on the verge of entering WWII. She meets Steve by pure coincidence; he is on another deep undercover mission within the ranks of the Gestapo. He is on a mission to free the latest test subjects of the Nazi scientists, and she joins him despite her underlying guilt for having abandoned him (for almost 20 years) when she was captured by Ares. **They have a replica of her ring made and Steve wears it so as to act as a decoy for Diana when they embark on the mission, so if Ares is watching, he wouldn't know whose ring to follow.**
> 
> But just when the mission is complete, Ares finds her and taunts her with Steve's ring, indicating that he has been captured by the Nazis. Almost immediately, however, before either of them can do anything, Ares and Diana are forcefully pulled back to Mount Olympus by the Gods, who have managed to regenerate. Zeus implores her to testify against Ares, and by the end of the trial, she realizes too many years has passed and even if she returns to Earth, the world would have moved on without her. And she would have to face an elderly Steve who she had once again abandoned for more than a decade. She can't bear to face that, so she returns to Themyscira. Zeus returns Steve's ring, which he confiscated from Ares, to her.  
>   
> Now, back to our regularly scheduled programme.
> 
> Happy Reading!

[PREQUEL](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11233578/chapters/25103718)

~

She didn't exactly hide it. There was nothing to be ashamed of, and it was not like she had a secret identity to protect. But it takes some time for them to notice. It speaks to how little they truly notice about her. Everyone assumes Bruce is the mystery, but Diana… Diana is the true enigma.

There is so much about her that slips right past them. Who she is, where she came from. What she believes in.

Maybe they know her less than they thought they did.

~

_Remember the conversation we had? A few weeks before..._

**_Yes, I do. We were talking about marriage._ **

A small smile. _Yeah, that we were. But we were mainly talking about me and you. Us. Getting married._

**_... Yes. I remember that._ **

_What I am trying to explain is... that's why I was so, ah... shocked, when I saw your ring._

~

As a parent, as a mother, one inevitably feared the day the child left the nest.

She knew nature had its ways with these things. And when nature wished for a certain trait or mannerism to be carried through, it would see that it is indeed carried through. For some species, the offspring always returned to its origins. The salmon would swim back up the stream, the orca would stay with her mother for the remainder of her life. But some animals do not. A bird that departs from its birth-nest makes a new one for itself, a hyena that leaves its old pack finds another.

Humans were by far the only creatures known to be able to choose whether or not to return. It was truly a strange ability, one that caused unnecessary amounts of indecision and heartache for those returning and those waiting. But then again, freedom is a much valued right (and rightfully so, for what is a person with no sense of autonomy?), so it is logical that to tether oneself to certain places would be given as an individual-specific choice.

Hippolyta had never doubted that Diana would return to them. After all, she had nothing lose, only things to gain if she came back. She did not concern herself with her daughter's absence and did not seek to ascertain the nature of the girl’s activity in the world of man, and lets the years pass. Things were as they always had been.

It was only when Diana once again graced to their shores that Hippolyta realised the toll of the time that had passed between them.

A regular afternoon of chores and training was dwindling to a close when the first storm clouds rolled in. Within the hour, a message from the weather scholars arrived, and it is urgent. These were not their normal showers. The metrological activity is erratic and unpredictable.

The thunder and lightning began at the fifth hour.

Her warriors were not fearful of the weather, but she could feel their anxiety. She couldn't help but worry as well. The gods rarely showed their prowess to them without reason, and these reasons threatened the stability of their community.

But all these emotions took a backseat when there appeared a particularly ear-splitting crack. A bolt of light rent the sky into two. When the activity cleared, she noticed that the clouds are no longer rolling, but dispersing.

"Soldiers! Arms to me!" She began her descent down to the shore without hesitation, to the approximate area of that singularly aggressive strike. She prayed to Hera that her hypothesis would not be disproved.

"Your Highness! There, by the sea cove!" Cried General Menalippe. She hadn't heard the maiden speak with such exhilaration since before Antiope's passing, and follows the direction of her sight.

A figure she would be able to identify anywhere was standing, just at the edge of the water, the sea foam lapping gently at her hem of her dress.

"Diana!"

The girl did not move at her call. She appeared to be dressed in traditional Greek garb, as if she had just returned from imperial counsel with the gods. Knowing her, this was a definite possibility. However, the child’s head was bowed as she stood as still as a statue, ankle-deep in the tide.

She dismounted before her mare had the opportunity to come to a complete halt, a foolish, amateurish move, characteristic of a skittish rider who could not wait to leave her animal. But she was not skittish, just ecstatic beyond words. Her child, her beloved daughter has returned.

"Diana, my dear, oh—"

The young maiden did not raise her head, but she turned to greet her with a slight bow as she approached.

"Mother. Have you been well?"

"Things would have been better if you were by my side, my child. You know that as well.” Her child was silent at this, and a seed of worry began to blossom in her chest. “Come, forward, Diana, out of the tide. Let me see you.”

Her face was older than Hippolyta remembered it being, the corners of her eyes now faintly lined. But these were not all sorrowful lines — some of the creases told a story of great joy, and happiness. Her eyes were solemn, as they had always been even when she was a child, but the voracious, bright determination in them had faded tremendously and she looked like she was a miles and miles away. When Hippolyta spoke to her, she did not look her full in the face, her attention half-divided and somewhere else. She was different. But as her mother, the queen could not determine if she liked this change.

“My dear,” Diana was the one who initiated the subsequent embrace. She carried the scent of wood and spice with her, as well as a strange, light perfume, “Where have you been? And why are you dressed like this?”

“It is a long story, Mother. I will tell you when the time comes, but I am tired now. Is there somewhere I could rest?” Hippolyta pulled out of the embrace, feeling slightly startled at her daughter’s reticence. She did not remember her daughter to be one who did not wish to relay her adventures and thoughts to those around her. She was always eager to chatter, eager to share her adventures, illustrate her experiences with vivid, vibrant language. The queen looked over her child, suddenly struck by how tired the girl appeared.

It was troubling. What happened to her, out there? What had made her so reserved and sombre?

“Of course, my love, your rooms are still well-kept and clean. You can sleep in them as soon as you wish. Niobi!” One of the guards came forward with her Pegasi mare, the one she named Victoria, if she remembered correctly, “Come, mount your horse and we can return to the palace together.”

“Thank you, Mother.” The other women come forward to exchange greeting as Hippolyta mounts her stead and leads the group. Behind, she hears Euboea and Venelia ride up next to her— she remembers the three girls being particularly close, with Euboea having taught Diana how to throw knives, and Venelia everything Diana knew about fighting on horseback. But Diana was strangely subdued, preferring to listen to her old friends talk about the happenings on the island, what happened while she was away, and injecting a few comments here and there. She did not provide any account of her time spent away, until Euboea asked curiously.

“Pray tell, Princess, but what are those rings on your fingers?”

Hippolyta tugged her own horse to a slower trot, and whipped about just in time to see Venelia take Diana’s hand, tilting it curiously so that the rings caught the midday light.

“They are my rings.” Diana said, “and the tale behind how I acquired them is terribly long, I’m afraid. I will tell it to you tomorrow, perhaps.”

The firm note of finality as well as the possessive quality in her voice was new. The Queen of the Amazons had never heard her daughter use such a tone with anyone before. Clearly, this was the same for her friends, who both looked caught off-guard as she withdrew her hand and urged her horse into a canter, outstripping all the others and falling into step beside her mother’s mare.

 “If I may speak my mind, Mother.”

“Of course.”

“I wish to have some time alone. I want to re-acquaint myself with the island and collect my thoughts. May I?”

“Why, Diana—”

“Mother. I need to be alone.” She tugged her horse to a halt, indicating for Diana to do the same.

“What is wrong, my dear child? You seem rather… out-of-sorts.”

Finally, for the first time since she reappeared, the girl raised her eyes to meet Hippolyta. All at once, the queen was struck by how those brown orbs no longer shone with mischief, nor were they turbulent with mirth. They were duller, quieter. More controlled and stable, and yet, melancholic.

“Please. I promise I will tell you everything as soon as I return to the palace at nightfall.”

“Diana…” The tone the young woman had left no space for argument, but unlike previously, before she left for the outside world, she did not lift her chin in a sheer show of obstinance, nor did she attempt to square off her mother with that fierce, bright glint in her eye in order for her to get her way with things. Her firmness was contained within her words, strong and unrelenting, yet charged with… immense agony.

“You have my permission. When I see you at sundown, shall we dine together?”

“I am agreeable with that suggestion.” Before she turned her mare around, she nodded respectfully at her mother, “Thank you.”

The young woman disappeared into the direction of the training grounds, where Hippolyta knew would be deserted at this time of the evening. As they watched her silhouette in the distance, Menalippe came up beside her and inquired cautiously.

“Your Highness, are you—”

“I am fine. Bring your soldiers and go have your evening meal. Let the maids know Diana and I will have ours in my quarters.”

The general inclined her head respectfully, “Your Majesty.”

The soldiers followed their leader quietly away, but Hippolyta could already hear whisperings amongst them of this ‘new’ Diana, and the strange way the young girl was now behaving. She sighs and suddenly feels every bit of her years.

If her child needed time, then time it is she will get. She has waited for her to return for so long, a little more waiting would not hurt.

Later that evening, Diana appears at her doorway, drenched to the bone and looking even more woe-begotten than she did when she first appeared on the beach. Hippolyta could smell the salt on her daughter’s skin —Diana had clearly went for a swim in the ocean. As the handmaids fussed over the princess, the queen watched carefully from the side, taking in her mannerisms and the way she spoke. She was less curt than before, but there was a certain maturity to the way she held herself now. It was as if she was carrying a weight on her shoulders, and though the girl was more than strong enough to bear it by herself, Hippolyta felt a strong urge to wrap the girl up in her warm embrace, as she once did when she was a wee babe.

As Diana returned from her bath, the queen had collected her thoughts enough to smile genially at the young woman. She summoned her over to the balcony, where a plentiful spread had been laid out for both of them to enjoy.

“Let us eat.”

She nodded mutely, picking up her cutlery. The rings on the girl’s fingers shine coldly in the dim firelight of the room. They click against the cutlery with a sharp ring. After a beat, Diana spoke.

“Thank you, Mother.”

“What for, my child?”

“For giving me time.”

To that, she knew not how to respond, except to rest a gentle hand over the young woman’s hand, grazing the rings subtly, as if that could help her take away her daughter’s misery. Brown eyes flicker up to meet hers, and she is startled to see how they sparkled with unshed tears.

“Diana…”

“I am ready to talk now.”

The young woman’s tale took the night to complete itself, and there are many breaks in between, where her mother allowed for her child to rest her head upon her shoulder, shaking with unrestrained sobs. It was a story of great tragedy, immense guilt and crushing misery, and once it was done, the queen wept for her child, and the sorrows she had endured.

As dawn broke, Diana leaned against her mother and gave a soft, aching sigh.

“I forgot how beautiful the sunrises were, here on Paradise.”

“They are beautiful, yes.” Her hands clasp her child’s, and she feels the cold press of the rings against her skin. “It is easy to forget, when you are out there, in the world of darkness.”

The girl hummed her approval softly and shifted away. She watched as her daughter rose to her feet and moved towards the edge of the balcony, leaning over the parapet to watch the lightening sky. Her eyes were tracing the cloudless azure ceiling, combing through the rays of light which splayed across the new dawn. She appeared as if she was looking out for something.

“I think I will remain here for a while.”

Hippolyta saw her eyes follow an invisible line from the very end of the horizon, where they both knew their sea met the barrier concealing them from the outside world. And she knew.

 “Anything you wish, Diana.”

She was still searching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if anyone will be reading this, but I will try to slowly post up all the chapters of this fic. I predict it will be about 5 to 6 chapters long, but it may take some time because little monster is only 50% done.
> 
> Please do drop me a comment! It would be nice to hear what readers feel about this. I recommend you read the other works in this series as well. But no pressure haha ><


	2. Chief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Napi has been waiting for this day to come.

_What I was trying to say is… will you still have me?_

**_Have you? As?_ **

_Will you marry me, Diana?_

The statement hangs over their heads. Diana feels her heart quicken.

**_You... want to..._ **

_Well, I would get down on one knee, with a proper engagement ring and all, but I have a crappy knee, and I literally just met you for the first time in a long time today so I forgot to bring the actual ring with me to Germany—_

**_Yes._ **

_... What?_

**_I will marry you. I want to marry you. Can I?_ **

He pulls her into a deep, intense kiss as a reply. When they break apart, they are breathless and both smiling stupidly, giddy with joy.

_Of course. Of course, you can. God, Diana, you have no idea how long I have wanted this._

_~_

She came to him, in the end.

He always knew she would come looking. Even if it were not in his lifetime she would come and she would find his sons. His daughters. Or their sons and their daughters.

She had been gone for so long. He knows, for he has marked every year on his pipe, and told the same rich tales to every generation that came, as soon as they could understand the burden of this duty. Each of them understood, in their own time, and handed the knowledge on to their children. He knew that he may never see her again, but it did not matter to him. As long as she came. And she would, eventually.

So he wasn't surprised when, one unremarkable afternoon, a figure descended upon his front porch where he sat, basking quietly in the sun and smoking his pipe.

"Princess." She raised her eyes to meet his, and he searched for the light that he saw in her gaze previously. He searched for the Diana that he got to know, by the fire at their makeshift campsite, where they listened to the planes blanket the front with their bombs. In that moment, if she had told him that her planned course of action was to lift the world entire and set it back on its right tracks with her bare hands, he would have been hard-pressed not to believe her.

After that point, he saw her charge through a blanket of enemy fire with only a shield and her gauntlets, lift a tank, and smite down the god of war by conjuring lightning with her fists. She didn’t manage to shift things enough, though. The Second War still came.

Nevertheless, she was mighty, as he was once. But now, he is tired and old, and somehow, she no longer had that look of confidence and determination to save everyone. Her embrace was firm – she looked as though she had not aged a day, but her eyes are dark and sad. Tired.

"Greetings, Napi.” She said in his native tongue.

“Please, there are no ears here. We can speak.”

Diana cocks her head, then gives a nod.

"It has been far too long." He said.

"How have you been?" At his indication, Diana stepped with him into his home. He led her to the family room—his children had all left for a day of work, and the grandchildren were either at school or in college.

"I have been well. It has been… a while since we last met.”

He let out a bark of laughter as he sat down in his favorite armchair, and her on the couch.

“I would not call almost 40 years a while, Diana. Why have you come?”

"Charlie sent me your way when I found him. He says hi from Scotland."

He smiles at the mention of their old comrade.

"How is Charles?"

A strange flicker of sadness crosses her face.

"Getting on with years. Sammy too." She said, "but they are both happy. Sammy recently welcomed another grandchild."

"Well, congratulations to him then."

He watched her smile stretch slightly, but it never did reach her eyes.

"Any... Any word from—“

 “Steve… you are searching for Steve?” He felt a strange weight settle in the pit of his stomach as the woman looked straight into his eyes.

“Diana… none of us has heard from Steve since the 1936 Olympics, when he called Charlie to tell him about you.”

 “None of you? Not even—”

“I do not know about Etta, she fell off the grid even before Steve left for his German posting. But besides that one call he made to Charles after you appeared at the Olympics, no, we have not heard from him.”

The look on her face was remarkably painful to stomach; Napi cleared his throat uncomfortably. At that moment, a glint caught his eye and he looked in the direction of the objects. Two gold rings, each with strange engravings on them. One around her left ring finger, another encircling her left thumb, resting on the knuckle.

“Princess, may I?” he waved a hand towards them. She pulled her eyes away from him to follow the direction of his gesture, hesitated, before holding out her hand for him to examine the items. Napi recognised the writings on the metal. As he read them, a chill settled upon his bones. These were powerful markings, words of a god. A deeply angry, violent, and hateful god.

"These rings..."

Diana withdrew her hand and a look of understanding went across her face. "Rings… yes. This one is mine."

She tapped the smaller, brighter ring, the one around her left ring finger.

"And the other?" Diana held his gaze for a long moment, before her eyes dropped to the rune-etched circle around her thumb.

"It's Steve's."

"How…?"

"It’s a long story.”

“I have time.” He leaned back into his chair, eyes still running over the hatred in those engravings. And waited.

Finally, Diana took in a steadying breath, and began her tale. It takes the better part of the afternoon, and by the time she was done, the sky was colored a rich, pink-streaked tangerine.

“… At the end, Ares took it from him to taunt me. My father —Zeus returned it to me."

"Oh, Diana.” she turned to face the distant horizon, so he wouldn’t see the turmoil on her face.

“It doesn’t matter.” A quiet reply came, “not anymore.”

The silence fell again, and he could feel the quiet unhappiness rolling off his old friend. Just then, something occured to him, startling him so much he leapt to his feet, quite suddenly.

"Napi?"

"Diana. Hold on, just wait here..."

"What? What's going on—“ He ignored her calls, and made straight for his bedroom. If he remembered correctly…

There! On the mantelpiece. The box.

When he finished rummaging through the box on the shelf and turned, she was standing there beside him.

"This." She looked blankly at the key he pressed into her hand.

"This is... a rusty old key?"

"It's not just any key," his eyes glittered in excitement, like it had not since their escapades in the First War. Diana looked at him, uncomprehending. It was getting late, but this key… this key was left to him by Steve before he left on his mission to Germany.

"Wait till you see what it opens."

She was confused, but it doesn’t matter. She would want to see this. She needed to see this.

He gave her an address and asks her if she was willing to fly with a little extra weight.

~

The look on Diana's face was a sight to behold when they finally arrived at the storage unit that the key belonged to.

"This is–"

They wandered into the unit, Diana's eyes taking over every filing cabinet, every box, and finally falling in the shape of Steve's prized motorbike, covered with a dusty tarp and standing in the middle of the stall. Knowing the meticulous nature of the man, it was probably still in perfect condition.

"All his. He left the key with me for safekeeping because he didn’t know when he was coming back. He moved all the things here when he moved out of your old place together–"

He barely managed to finish his sentence before Diana has him in a bone-crushing hug. He winced as his aged body protested, but hugged her back all the same. Napi could feel her muttering the same words over and over into his shoulder as she held on tight.

"Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may or may not have guessed, the little blurb at the start of the story is a conversation had between Diana and Steve, way back when they reconvened for that mission in WWII. It is a conversation that speaks for itself, so I won't go much into it.
> 
>  _Regular italics are Steve's_ , _**boldface italics are Diana's**_
> 
> Also, each character whose POV the chapter is written from will have a different way of speaking, so do pardon the shifting writing styles. It is deliberate and not accidental.
> 
> Do let me know what you think about this whole universe that I'm trying to weave here! To people who are reading this for the first time, I'm sorry if this whole thing is a tad confusing >< what I suggest is to read the whole series from the top to get a better feel of things? Although I know it's a bit long-winded if you go by that route. Sorry! But I hope you enjoy my writing anyway.


	3. Barry Allen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curiosity kills the cat... but who cares? Not Barry.

**_How do you do this here? We don't have marriages in Themyscira._ **

_We have rings and we have to register as a married couple, we can go get those things after this stint is over — I will be recalled back to America after this._

**_Sounds like a plan._ **

_We also have ceremonies and vows, but we don't have to follow them strictly. Some couples do without the ceremony, and as for the vows, people can write their own._

**_What are vows? Are they like promises?_ **

_Yes, exactly like promises. But it is pretty much the same sort of values, I promise to have you, rich or poor, in sickness and in health, through good and bad..._

**_But why would I leave you given any of those scenarios? I love you, and I would never leave your side if I could._ **

_Yeah, but some people need to say it out loud, and for others to hold them accountable._

**_Well, that is just idiotic. Then perhaps they do not truly love each other._ **

_Yes, perhaps._

~

Barry had always been pretty fast at picking up on things. So he didn't know how he managed to miss out on this.

Then again, he rarely saw her in her civilian wear, and when they met in the field, she was always moving, always taking down something or someone with her inhuman speed and strength. I mean, he knew he was the fastest man alive — but he wasn't counting on a there being a fastest woman alive. Of course, Diana never cared much for titles. To everyone, she was Diana, and occasionally, very occasionally, Princess of Themyscira, daughter of Hippolyta -- Queen of the Amazons. It was only the media that raved over her and, true to all her capabilities, gave her the fitting title of Wonder Woman.

But to the civilian world, she was Dr. Diana Prince, chief historian and senior archaeologist of the weapons department of the Louvre. Everyone assumed that she was a daughter of someone, from somewhere, possibly even a sibling to someone, but it never occurred to him that she could be a romantic partner (girlfriend, lover, _wife_ ) to someone as well.

Truth be told, Barry had always thought that it would be quite interesting to be the companion of the one and only Wonder Woman. How do you woo a person so strong, so successful in every way, so magnificent, beautiful, and intelligent? You had to have come from the same mold she did, or at least be of similar make.

But Clark was already taken...

So imagine his surprise when he noticed the rings.

The League had gathered at Batman's (no, it is Bruce now) private penthouse in Gotham City for a post-battle get-together. They just got back from battling Starro at Rhode Island first, and then Happy Harbor when he escaped and regrouped with his starfish zombies. Mount Justice was basically turned inside out by his troops, so they had to make do with an alternative meeting location.

Diana looked hesitant to join ( ** _I have work tomorrow and I live in Paris._** _Aww, Di, c'mon, live a little._ Why don’t you take a day off? ** _I don’t want to take a day off._** _Clark can fly you back, right? **I can fly, Barry, just too tired to. And besides, Clark needs to get home to Lois. She must be worried sick after seeing the news.**_ ) but in the end she relented (Bruce steps in, You can take my jet back. **_... Fine._** Barry whooped and hi-fived Hal, _Yay, peer pressure!_ )

She returned in a pair of jeans and a crisp woman's white blouse, hair cascading down her shoulders in rippling curls, and wearing a pair of sneakers. Nobody knew how she has clothes of her size in Bruce's place, but he vaguely recalled her saying that after missions, if drags too long for her to make the trip back to Paris, she would sleep over at Bruce's penthouse. Bruce had a manor anyway, so the apartment was free. But whether she ended up sleeping with him, or just by herself, well. Barry doesn't know. Scratch that, he doesn't want to know.

What grabbed his attention was not her clothes first, though. It was the two brassy rings on her left hand, one on her ring finger and another on her thumb. They were strange rings, their shine is dull and almost blackish, and encircling each band is a string of hieroglyphs carved in a strange language not familiar in any way. The one on her ring finger is bright and new-looking, whereas the other looked more worn with age, and clearly too big for her other fingers, which was why she wore it on her thumb.

They looked like decorative rings. Maybe some relic of Themyscira, or some ritualistic greek thing that he didn't understand. But she seemed, at that time to treasure them very much, occasionally brushing her hands across them to ascertain that they were still on her fingers.

It became something of a strange fascination of his, to check for the presence of the rings on her fingers. Perhaps they were heirlooms, like, y'know, Amazon purity rings or something awesome like that. But he soon realised something profoundly moving, but okay, slightly creepy as well.

Diana never ever took those rings off.

She wore them everywhere, into battle, to parties hosted by Bruce, even when she slept (don't ask), never once did he see her remove them.

He was starting to think that they were permanently adhered to her fingers until months later, he overheard Clark asking her for someone to approach to fit his and Lois' wedding bands. Diana smiled wryly (at least it looks wry from the security camera he is spying at them from) and held out her left hand, the one with the rings.

"This one," she pointed at the one on her ring finger, "unfortunately, it is made by a god, so I cannot help you in that area. However, this one is not."

To his mild (absolute) surprise, with a gentle twist, the ring on her thumb slid right off, into Clark's hand. He gave it a onceover, looking rather curious.

"The lack of wear and tear on this is amazing. What is it made of?"

"I am not sure of its exact composition, but it is very resilient. I've been wearing this for many, many years, and I rarely take it off." She holds out her hand for it and slides the ring back on once it is returned. "I daresay it is more likely to cause my fingers damage if I hit with it on my knuckles than it is for it to shatter."

"Interesting." Clark said, "And you said you had this made in...?"

"Well, I can't give you the exact date and year of make because it was already in stock when Steve asked for it. But I would date it anywhere between 1930 to 1936."

Holy Batcape, that ring was almost a century old? How was it still… And who is Steve?

Over the monitor, Clark and Diana were gradually walking out of earshot, and he had to strain to hear what they are saying.

"Let me know when you get in contact with your friends about it? The ceremony is in two months."

"Tim did the engravings on this with minimal reference to the original in under 30 minutes. If your wedding bands are in their charge, I am sure they will turn out beautiful."

"That sounds perfect."

_Never mind the goddam ring, Clark, Jesus Christ— just find out what they mean!_

But they are already rounding the corner, with Clark chattering avidly about the details of his wedding ceremony.

_And just who the hell was Steve!??!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness of this chapter! I've been incredibly busy with university and submissions and the such, so this took a while. This one is a tad short, but it is one of my favourite chapters -- hopefully y'all like it as well! 
> 
> Til next time!


	4. Richard Grayson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana meets Robin, Batman's protege.

_**So we promise each other...?** _

_Well, for starters, I promise to love you, always. I promise to treat you as an equal, and with respect. And I promise to be there for you, wherever you need me. Wherever you want me to be._

_**Even if it means you have to drop everything and go?** _

_Even that. If you wanted me to drop everything now and return to Themyscira with you, I would._

_**But I don't want that. We have to save your friends first. You promised.** _

_Well, yes, but I am just trying to show you that my promise to you holds precedence over every other promise I make. Because you are the most important thing in the world to me, darling._

_**Oh, love...** _ her chest fills with warmth as well as the feeling that something of great importance has been handed to her. Steve is putting himself at an immense amount of risk with this promise; he is essentially giving his entire life to her, and is willing to compromise everything if that were her wish.

* * *

 

To be pretty honest, Dick never saw this coming.

I mean, Bruce was a pretty odd guy, but he was a good person. Yeah, it wasn't all that normal for a dashing, eligible bachelor to take in a kid his age, much less a dashing, eligible, bazillionare bachelor. What did he need with a 9 year old circus brat? But he was grateful for the act anyway. He grew to befriend the man who took him under his wing, and was determined to be as helpful as he could be, learn as much about his new guardian as he could.

But this... this was another thing altogether.

Between discovering the Batcave by accident one night, to learning the man ran around Gotham in a spandex batsuit after dark, and being asked to be his partner (?!!?) in crime(fighting), he has to admit, that this has been the bit he has been looking forward to the most.

(He couldn't really look forward to the rest, TBQH, seeing how everything that occurred thus far was an accident.)

(Then again, he is Robin. Had always been Robin, in his bones.)

This is the bit that makes his stomach turn in excitement. Meeting the Justice League. The JLA. The heroes that the boys in his class constantly worshiped. That those people on the street could only talk about. That even their most formidible villians talked about with barely concealed apprehension about.

And he gets to meet them, gets to be on the same playing field as them.

Psyche.

But first, he must get over the fact that Uncle Clark was Superman. As he stands beside Bats, trying to duck past his cape to see the team.

(Bruce... Batman wasn't too keen about this meeting. Something about going too fast and the team getting all riled over him exploiting a child for their day – wait , no, night jobs.)

(First of all, he is not a child. Second of all, well. The second point had to be proven. Hence today. )

"Batman, you must be crazy." Uncle Clark says incredulously. "We were supposed to have this meeting to discuss the impossibility of you having such a young sidekick, but instead of negotiating, you come up with this?"

"Kent is right. We can't spar a mere child." Aquaman, Arthur Curry, shook his head.

"He is prepared. And he deserves his role beside me, as my partner." Batman deadpanned, then paused, "Besides. I promised him this. It was his... birthday present."

He could almost hear Bruce twitching under the cowl and had to hide a smirk. Well, that's what you got when you promised Richard John Grayson 'whatever he wants' without thinking it through first.

"Birthday, my foot. But doesn't it occur to you that it is slightly weird for a kid to request to take on the entire League for his birthday? From his billionaire dad, who can get him just about anything in the world?! Would you have given him a car if he asked you to?" The Flash, Barry Allen, looked pretty distraught. Dick tried not to frown at being referred to as a kid. Fails.

"He is still in the midst of getting his license, so no, I would not have bought him a car." Batman growls, "I would have just let him use one of mine."

The speedster threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. Victory! He cheered silently in his head. You go, B-man. Tell them how it is.

"Speaking of birthdays, how old is he again?" Black Canary, aka Dinah Lance, spoke up. Ms Lance looked sceptical, which made him straighten up and interject before Batman could answer.

"I turned 9 a few months ago."

They seemed a bit thrown to hear him speak, but he stood straight and didn't back down. He was going to have his sparring session today, whether they liked it or not.

"9 is still pretty young, boy." Aquaman, Arthur Curry, addressed him. Finally, some recognition around here, although he was still disgruntled at being called a boy.

"You shouldn't even be running around and fighting villains in the first place. Why did you think we called this meeting?" Uncle Clark spoke to him directly. Dick knew he didn't mean for it, but man, did it sting to have your favourite uncle put you down like that.

"I am old enough! Besides, I spar with Bats, and he seems to think I am ready, don't you, Br- I mean, Batman?"

He sees Mr Queen and Mr Allen cringe at his referring to Batman as Bats. He can't help but grin at that.

The Dark Knight nodded, "He is a bit rough around the edges, but he is ready. He has been training with me for almost a year now, and the past few patrols have been rough –he has already seen Gotham's worse."

"But that's different. You know how most of us spar. We use powers, man! Sorry, Dinah, Oliver, but I am speaking for most of us."

"You underestimate him, Barry. I've trained him well. Besides, I am not expecting all of you to fight him. Just a few of you will do."

Mr Queen pipes up, "But even for us, those without powers, you can hardly say that the metas are easy to beat, Batman."

"I am not expecting to beat any of you, Mr Queen." Eyes turn to him. Mr Queen's brows arch at being addressed by his civilian name.

"Then why do you wish to fight us?" Clark asked.

"He wishes to prove a point." A smooth, quiet voice speaks up. Throughout the whole conversation, Diana Prince, Wonder Woman had not spoken once. He looked to her immediately.

Dick always had a bit of an ability to read people.  He could tell from the way she was standing that she was wary of the situation, which is why she didnt inject her two cents until now. But at the same time, she is regarding him with a curious eye -- he has read her file. Trained from young on a warrior island, she would be his best supporter in such a situation.

Then she shifts and he spots a glint of metal on her hand. When he registers what it is, Dick's eyes brighten. He should appeal to her. She would listen if he showed her those.

Before anyone can stop him, he darts out from behind Batman and makes for Wonder Woman. He hears the adults gasp when he sidesteps Superman lightly and does a flip over Black Canary, landing like a cat in front of Ms Prince.

"Your Highness," he bows, then straightens, "Please. You were trained from your youth. Surely, you can understand."

The woman looks down at him. Her eyes are guarded and solemn.

"I am unsure as to your meaning. Our upbringing is very different, and I am quite sure our experiences are similarly separate."

"I wouldn't go as far as to say they are completely different." He glanced at her hand and after a beat, started tugging at his gloves. She looked at him curiously.

"What is it you are doing?"

"Robin..." He heard Bruce say, but he ignored him.

In a second, the gloves were off. He bared his hands, lifting it up towards her.

"Look." She did, and the expression on her face froze.

His parents wedding bands glisten around his thumbs. Without waiting for her to respond, he holds out one hand and looks at her questioningly.

She mutely gives him her left hand. Their rings clink together as he clasps her slender and long fingers in both hands. His hands are much smaller than hers, but that is not the point he was trying to make.

"We wear them on our thumbs because they don't fit." He murmurs. Her rings are inscribed on the outer band instead of the inner, but he doesn't question it. It is what it is.

"We wear them to remember," he continues, feeling her gaze on their interlocked hands, "We wear them because it makes us strong."

There is pin-drop silence in the wake of his small monologue. Dick looks up, back into her eyes, and sees that the walls had lowered to reveal something deeply broken behind them. He knows she has lost something, just like he has. And they are both fighting in honour of those that did not manage to save themselves. They are fighting for something bigger than any of them.

_Please. Let me fight. Let me defend what little I have left._

"Diana?" Her name appeared to jolt her out of her reverie. She glanced towards her teammates with look on her face. Then turned back to him.

"Are you sure you want this?"

He stares right back into her eyes, resolute and firm.

"I need this."

"...Alright."

Immediately, the room erupts in chaos. But he smiles in the midst of it all, knowing that he'd won over a formidable adversary.

And true to her name, he gets his fight.

(Spoiler, he gets to stay Robin.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be a bit slow in coming, I'm currently in the last stretch of my semester and being bogged down by my finals >< Meanwhile, enjoy! Please do let me know what you think of this chapter:D I personally really like Robin, I used to write for the Young Justice (TV) fandom, thus the inclusion of him in this. I know it's a bit out of the ways, but I couldn't resist. Besides, I wanted someone who also has lost significant people in their lives, and the only other person aside from Robin I could think of was Batman and I doubt Batman and Diana's interactions would go too deep, seeing how private Bruce is. Oh well.


	5. Dinah Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was at a loss as to what to answer. She knew she couldn't truly feel what Diana felt, after all, although she had her own losses to shoulder. Her mother, her father, friends, fellow defenders of justice. Her heart still ached at their memory, but she had Ollie and their adopted children. She had the love of her life with her, she got to wake up next to him in the morning, got to live and breathe the same air as those she now loved. 
> 
> Diana had none of those.

"You really shouldn't wear these out on the field."

Diana raises a brow at her friend's quiet comment as the woman dabs antiseptic onto a long laceration on her arm. They are in the Medical Bay of the Watchtower, taking turns to dress each other's wounds. It is just the two of them – the others are either changing out of their outfits or getting ready for Batman's debrief.

"What do you mean?"

Her friend's rings glint as she taps them gently with her finger. Dinah sees the woman’s  finger twitch at the disturbance and knows her deduction is correct.

"These. They hurt you." She says bluntly. She takes a long ace bandage and wraps it around the princess’ arm injury. "We are all professionals here, and I know that you have been in this line of work for longer than any of us, but putting your fingers on the line for these things... it's just not worth it. May I?"

She watches her friend's reaction to her request to remove her precious rings. After a brief moment of hesitation, Diana nods.

The skin underneath the bands of metal is mottled purple and blue with bruises, but this does not surprise her. The rings are hardier than they look, apparently, and it seems that when fists were being used, the impact could injure Diana's fingers.

"Oh, my dear..." Dinah exhales softly, examining the state of the woman's battered phalanges. Her heart gives a twinge of sympathy; it looks very painful.

Dinah knows that is not often that Diana forgoes her shield and sword for her bare fists and gauntlets, but thinking back... their fight today involved a syndicate of alien black market dealers who refused to turn themselves over to the Green Lantern Corps peacefully, choosing instead to escape to Earth. If Dinah remembers correctly, the member of the group that Diana marked and ended up fighting had magnetic abilities, giving him a unrelenting hold on her primary weapons of choice. It was likely that she had lost her shield and sword in the fight, which mean that she spent the rest of the battle with nothing but her gauntlets, her lasso, and her fists. And the rest was probably history.

"I heal fast, Dinah. It is fine." Dinah finished tending to her friend’s wounds and pat her on the knee to indicate that it is her turn. The princess descends from the gurney and lets her friend get onto it. As Dinah strips off her attire to expose her own set of contusions and scrapes, she sees Diana's eyes flicker unconsciously to the rings.

"You might want to wait to put them back on. Give your knuckles a bit of a rest."

"I know... My fingers just feel a little... naked."

"Why do you wear them, Di?" Dinah asks quietly, watching her thread a string through the suture needle. One of her old wounds from several days ago has reopened and the stitches need to be fixed.

“... I made a promise once."

"And what kind of promise was that? One that involved you not taking off the rings?"

"It wasn’t like that. It was a promise that… I never thought I would break." Says the woman quietly, but Dinah is not one to back down. She continues in her usual straightforward manner.

"And did you? Break it, I mean."

Diana levels a gaze at her, before turning back to the task at hand.

"I didn't... wasn't able to see it through, if that is what you are asking. I was limited by circumstance."

"I see..."

She is at a loss as to what to answer. Diana has always been a lone wolf, and not very open about her affairs. Dinah knows that she and Bruce used to have a strange little thing going on, but it seems like it never developed into anything more. From what she heard, Diana had stopped it in its tracks, cutting the courtship short. So forgive her for thinking that there’s a lot of hurt in her past, things she is still not willing to relinquish to let a new presence into her life.

With a sigh, she decides that this is probably a better time than never to broach the subject. She indicates towards the bigger, brassier-looking ring, the one on Diana’s thumb.

"That's not yours, isn't it? I mean it belongs to you, but it wasn't made for you."

Diana stopped, cotton bud hovering over the wound she had now focused her efforts on. Dinah looked back at her, blue eyes icy and clear.

Finally, her friend nodded.

"How did you…”

"I didn’t. This habit of yours… its not lost on the others too, you know. I know Wally noticed. Ollie and Hal as well. Possibly Arthur, but none of us really know what’s up. I’m guessing Clark and Bruce probably know more than we do."

"Ah."

Just as Diana finished tending to her wounds, Dinah asked, cautiously, "... And you still love him?"

"..." the question hung in the air between them. So her guess was correct, it was a ring of a former lover. Namely _the_ former lover. The one that kept Diana from getting close to anyone else.

As Diana packs away the materials, it becomes clear that no concrete reply was forthcoming, so she shrugs.

"You don't have to answer." She rests a hand on the princess' shoulder. "Just know that if you ever need to talk, I am here for you."

She watches the woman slip the rings back on, then turn to her.

"... Thank you."

She smiles sadly, and the conversation ends there. Dinah knows she cannot truly feel as Diana does, after all. Although she has her own losses to shoulder, her mother, her father, but she has her husband and their adopted children. Her heart still aches sometimes with the loss of her parents but at least she has the love of her life with her, she gets to wake up next to him in the morning, gets to live and breathe the same air as those she loves. How is she to know what it feels like to be all alone?

The thing is, Diana wasn’t alone. She had them, and they were friends, weren’t they? Perhaps she just needed a reminder.

In retrospect, Dinah thinks that this was probably the reason why Diana and her grew closer afterwards. The conversation had opened up about something private and incredibly close to the woman’s heart, and after that, everything else was easier.

And the question? The question didn't remain unanswered either. It took 5 more years, but Dinah got her reply.

(Although, to this day, she wished it didn’t get answered in the way it did.)

It had been a gruelling battle with one of Diana's mythical enemies, Circe. She had revived their dead relatives and pitted them at the respective loved ones. She saw Oliver left with no choice but to strike against his parents, and she herself threw a dagger into her dead mother's heart, and she felt her break a little in the process. She knew this wasn't really them, but it hurt nonetheless.

The reanimated corpses did not show any signs of awareness or personality of their past selves, but perhaps it was because none of them managed to get as close as Diana did. She wasn't looking at first, but when she glanced over to check in on her friend, she saw her, frozen at the sight of a soldier in Nazi uniform. He was ashen and growling, with a menacing look on his face as he drew his pistol.

"Di—“ before she could finish, the ghoul fired at her friend. The shot goes wide, missing her and sending a long scrape along her left arm. Something stirs on Diana's face and her expression hardens as she lunges, a raw, anguished cry exploding from her lips. Her sword sinks into the man's flesh like a hot knife through butter and the corpse collapses. Diana straddles the body and looks like she is about to wrench out the sword when she stops.

Dinah wants to get to Diana. The princess is not moving. The battle rages around them, but all she does is get off the corpse. She is saying something to it. Something was wrong, but her attention is wrenched away from her friend by an attacking zombie.

After a brief struggle, the corpse Dinah is fighting goes down, and she finally gets to look back at her teammate. Diana has gone from kneeling over the ghoul to cradling it in her arms, as gentle as can be, like she was embracing a newborn babe. There are bright tears streaming down her face, cutting two clear tracks into the grime from the battle

Then it occurred to her. This is him. It must be.

As she got closer, she heard Diana speak to the corpse, voice thick and hoarse with tears

"Steve… please. Don’t try to speak— Steve.” 

Steve.

The ghoul says something, and Dinah is horrified to hear that it's not the gnarled cry that have been emitting from the mouths of the other monsters. It speaks in a broken, low mutter of an unmistakably human voice.

"It...s... kay, Di...ana." the human says as the demigoddess sobs. Dinah jumped in to cover her as a reanimated corpse lunged towards the pair of long-lost lovers in the middle of the battlefield.

This is him. The man Diana promised her heart to.

There is a flash of metal, and before Dinah could say anything, Diana has sunk a short blade into the skull of her lover.

"Diana—" but the woman doesn't hear her. She rocks back and forth for a moment, cradling the soldier, before laying him down ever so gently on the ground and glaring back up at the battle. A heartbroken war cry slips past her lips and she charged at the largest knot of zombies she could find. Dinah is left with the fallen body of the man her friend once loved.  
  
In the fights that follow, Dinah keeps Diana in her periphery. There are no more incidents of any sort, and if seeing any of the zombies startle the princess, it doesn't show in her fight. She is a force to be reckoned with, and struck down even more monsters than Superman himself. When they are finally done with the mission, they start the clean-up. Dinah knew Diana is keeping an eye out for one particular individual, so she tries her hardest to locate him. In the end, it is Hawkgirl, Shayera, who extracts him from the carnage. When they pass him to her, she handed him to Barry and told him to put him in a corner, separate from the other corpses. Her face was a stony set and she does not go to him.

That is, until most of the other corpses are returned to their graves.

It was then that Diana finally turned to the body of the man she loved, no, loves, and knelt down in the dirt beside her. Dinah came up from behind her friend, knowing that the rest of the team is watching them. Most of the older team members know the man, bits of the story. It was a long, heartbreaking tale, many pieces still lost on them.

Her hands drifted over his face, brushing away the errant strands of golden hair that splayed over the man's forehead. Her dazed touch paused at his eyes which were snapped open, a pair of staring baby blues, dull and dim in death.

"Diana," Dinah could only watch as a drop of clear liquid fell on the woman's hands. Her face was contorted with pain, her eyes bright with tears, “Diana…”

She hears the woman choke out, breath hitching, “I… can’t bury him.”

“Do you know where his grave—“

“No. I didn’t… I didn’t even think that he was dead. We never heard from him… after the war.” A broken sob ripped through the princess, “He has no grave to be returned to.”

There was nothing left to do. She pulls the woman into her arms and feels her break down, at last. There is nothing they can do.

Nothing left to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for being so patient with me! I finally come bearing the second last chapter of this fic. The next one will be a while in coming because I am going on holiday and I am not sure how I will be able to access my documents there. But if everything goes my way, the last chapter will be up by next week!
> 
> Until then, take care :D Leave a comment telling me what you thought of this chapter!! I love hearing from all of you.


	6. Lois Lane

Lois watched Diana freeze on the middle of the room. Something was up.

"Diana?" She called, making her husband and all their other friends turn.

"Lois? What's wrong?" Clark is following her line of sight, and spots the focus of her attention.

Just then, Diana moved. But she moved not in her usual, purposeful stride, but in a daze, as if in a state of dreaming. She drifted through the crowd, eyes darting frantically, looking for something.

"Is something wrong? Who is she looking for?" Bruce joined them. Behind them, Dinah made a noise and pointed.

"There. Over there." They look in the direction she was indicating, toward the German aircraft in the middle of the exhibition floor. There were many people standing about the plane, mingling, and some admiring the craft, but there was a particular individual that seemed to cut a distinct figure. It was a handsome man, wearing a tailored grey suit. He was gazing at the plane, hands clasped behind his back.

Then he turned and his eyes locked with Diana's.

She moved faster than humanly possible, and was beside him in a flash. And suddenly, they were a hair's breadth apart and then they were kissing. A full-on, passionate kiss, in the middle of a crowded room. All eyes turned to the pair of them and there was a collective shock that rippled through the room.

"What the—" She heard Oliver mutter.

"Who is that?" Clark asked, sounding shocked as well.

"No idea." Lois watches the two have at it, her eyes zeroing in on the man. He looked to be in his early 30s, had blonde hair and the bluest eyes she had ever seen, and... He had a strange ring on his left ring finger. That looked identical to...

"Clark, can you see what is that ring he is wearing? It looks like--"

"It's the one Diana used to wear." Her husband finished for her, sounding dumbfounded, "I don't understand it. I thought she buried that ring with--"

"Steven Rockwell Trevor." A low voice came from the back of the group. It was Bruce.

"Did I hear you saw Steve Trevor?" Barry returned to their group with Iris in tow, "Wait, wasn't that the man who appeared in that battle with the zombies? Diana's long-lost—holycrapwhatisthataretheykissingDiana!"

His surprised yell earned him a chiding smack on the arm from his fiancée. Diana pulled apart from the man, no indication that she heard Barry's exclamation. She started to speak, her lips moving so fast Lois could barely see them move. The man, Steve was laughing, and asking her to slow down. Diana threw her arms around him again, pressing their foreheads together.

So that's what she looked like when she was truly happy.

Diana had always struck her as a really serious, no-nonsense type of individual. She was very much like Bruce in a sense, both of them were stoic and calm in the face of even the gravest dangers. She knows this from Clark's stories, and from the interactions with them in gatherings the team held. So this was new.

"Should we call them over?"

"If looks are anything to go by," rumbled Arthur, "I'd say they would prefer to have the time alone."

Diana turned to apologise to her friends for her behaviour but both women waved away her concern, appearing to tell the couple that it was fine. Lois suspects that no one has ever seen the Princess so happy before. They send the woman off, beaming from ear to ear.

Diana spotted them standing at the table and Barry waved at her to come over. She turned to Steve, who looked like he couldn't take his eyes off her. They appeared to come to an agreement and made a beeline for their group.

"They're coming!" The speedster said excitedly.

"Of course they're coming, you idiot. You waved them over!"

"What? What did I do?!"

"Hi everyone." Diana and Steve appeared beside Dinah. Immediately, the blonde pulled Diana in for a hug and said something into her ear, something that made her smile so brightly, it was like she was a different person altogether.

"Thank you, Dinah. Everyone, I have not managed to introduce you... this is Steve Trevor, a very dear... friend of mine."

"Oh yeah, that kiss was definitely very dear— ow!" Barry winced out a smile, rubbing his side where Iris had jabbed him, "I mean, hi, I am Barry Allen."

They shook hands.

"And I am Iris West, nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine." He shook their hands and with a huge smile. Well-mannered and handsome. And if he matched up with Diana... must be some guy.

They went on a round of introductions, which soon launched into small talk. She found herself moving closer to Clark, leaning into him as they watched their friends get acquainted to the new member of their group. She could tell already that he was going to become a welcome addition, from the way he volleyed humorous quips in Barry's and Arthur's direction (much to the former's delight to have found 'someone with a decent sense of humour'), the way he managed slide into step beside Iris and Clark as they discussed some recent political incidents, and the way he was now entering into conversation with Dinah and Oliver about furniture choices (they've been looking at refurnishing their summer home in Malta). All the while, his hand was tightly clasped in Diana's, as if she was afraid that if she let him go, he would vanish again.

After a bit, he excused himself to get a drink for both himself and Diana. She held onto his hand to the very end, until she had to let him go, hand lingering after the man in midair.

Lois understood. She has lost Clark before, she knew how it felt to have them lost, and then have them come back and not want them to leave your side for a second. She sidled out of Clark's grasp and and went to her side.

"Don't worry."  Diana startled at her words, then turned to look at her questioningly.

"You don't have to worry." She repeated herself, smiling slightly, "He'll be back before you know it."

Lois placed a firm hand on Diana's bicep. After a beat, Diana nodded, glancing back at Steve, who had just intercepted a waiter and took two flutes of champagne from him.

Her smile told Lois everything she needed to know.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a bit carried away recently with reposting my old fics from ff.net that I forgot I have yet to update this one. But here's the last chapter, if anyone is still reading! Thanks so much for reading this fic, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did :)


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